To Love Again
by BokujouMonogatari
Summary: A world filled with the power to fulfill one's wildest wishes, so how can things go so wrong?Magic was something from fairy tales, beautiful and wondrous. With the walls caving in around her, can one girl rise above the wreckage to reach the one she loves
1. Chapter 1

To Love Again

**To Love Again**

Bustling around the crowed street, not one busy buyer took notice of the girl. Alone she wandered the single road that was Diagon Alley. Not once did she glance up at a particular store that happened to catch her eye or to study someone she thought she recognized. No, as she traipsed she only swerved agilely through the mass of bodies, cringing each time someone brushed past not matter how fleeting the contact.

Had anyone taken even a single moment to observe the girl they would have instantly seen the cloud of sorrow that kept her head forced downwards. The downcast eyes alone could have shown that, and still the dark clothes and shadowed face were not enough to cause people to cast a second glance her way. A sideways glance at her clothes could have told you she wasn't feeling up to shopping, yet there she was, dressed in black sweats and a matching baggy sweatshirt with the hood up over her head despite the obvious heat of summer. Those people whose minds saw only physically, paying no attention to emotions and expressions, would have taken in only a girl who had no desire to show her figure and was too lazy to dress properly.

That was not the case, as it was, she was not in the mood to shop indeed, but needed a reason, any reason really, to get out of the house. The girl had even chosen to go alone, although not lacking in friends or the social ability to make new ones wherever she went. It could be assumed, quite quickly and without doubt, that this particular girl was not in any way satisfied with the way things had turned out.

In fact, this girl would have done anything to turn the clocks back a few months to change the most influential events deciding the path her life would take.

Nikita Chalice would have even given her life, if only she could go back, but that doesn't make much sense to you, now does it? So we will settle for having her tell the story herself, in her own time. As you can clearly see, she is not up to it yet…Of course, she won't tell you really, she isn't one to speak something so personal so freely. I'm afraid you will have to settle for following along with her, that is, if you would like to know her story


	2. Coming Back

**Author's Note: I do not own any part of J.K. Rowelling's work. All credit for characters (excluding the ones I have created) goes to her for her Harry Potter series.**

To Love Again

Chapter 1: Diagon Alley

A sense of deepest dread breathed freely through the gaping hole in my chest. Cradled between insanity and regret in the most vulnerable cockles of my heart, the feeling only gnawed more fiercely at my tormented soul, attempting, with frequent success, to draw me into the somehow sweet oblivion of loss. How strange that a feeling so undesirable could bring such peace when I finally let myself free fall into it entirely. Of course, it was only peaceful in the sense that I no longer had to fight it; it was just the pain and me. No longer any guilt hanging over my thoughts as I struggled to hide the tears and grimaces, just the horrible truth exposed, if only for a time.

With a heavy sigh I left the depressing thoughts behind me in the streets and slipped into the nearest shop, doing my best to avoid being jostled in the horde of people crowding the small street. Once into the shop deemed relatively safe from the frenzied shoppers, I pulled a piece of parchment out of the pocket of my sweats. Ignoring the dull roar in my ears for the moment, I scanned over the items on the list, a shopping list.

I was due to start school two days. The prospect of going back to school wasn't enticing at all to me, though the fact that I would be attending a new school relieved some of the general annoyance. Still, I supposed it would be better than hiding myself away in my house. Yet again I thought it might simply be more convenient to stay away from people altogether, but I couldn't very well do that considering I was living and had things to do and places to go. The battle between the negatives and positves of returning to school was futile, I was going and there wasn't really anything that I could do about it, besides, the pros and cons were the same.

Having read over the list and done my best to memorize its contents, I returned to my present location outside of my mind and outside of the list. Taking in the rather noisy surroundings I saw a variety of creatures in cages. Without another look around I realized I was in the Alley's pet shop. I hurried to step outside, not needing or really wanting a pet for school.

Of course, one must always take something unexpected home from a shopping trip and I found myself staring wide-eyed at each pet while on my way out the door. Most of them were normal pets that could be found even in muggle houses, cats, dogs, birds and fish. However, in each category there was a strange exception to the normal animals; gigantic cats, multi-headed dogs, fantastically feathered birds too extravagant to associate with muggles and four-legged fish stared, just as wide-eyed, back at me.

Not particularly attracted to any of the animals, I turned around only to come face to face with, well, another strange face. This animal was not entirely odd in its appearance; I was simply startled by the angle at which I first perceived the creature. It didn't take me long to discover what it was, not many animals hang upside-down. The bat stared back at me, unblinking. Its little pink tongue darted out of its mouth once and it shuffled its clawed feet clinging to the wooden bar from which it hung. The thick burnt orange fur blending with the dark chocolate brown looked quite inviting. Even the warm, muddy depths of its eyes, which hadn't yet turned away or blinked, called to my heart.

I was instantly smitten with the tiny bat and called for the shopkeeper. The hunch-backed woman was unusually happy to be rid of the animal and sold it very cheap as if worried I might change my mind. She insisted, quite sternly, that I take a cage and a bag of treats free of charge. The hassle she inflicted upon the simplicity of purchasing a pet alerted me to the awkward action of carrying a bat around Diagon Alley.

"Can you keep her here for me? I need to pick up a few things." I asked the old woman.

The woman replied kindly, "Of course, dear. She'll be here when you come back."

With another glance at the bat, my new pet, I exited the shop and headed towards the bookshop. The shop was lined on all sides and all floors with shelves that were crammed with books. Even with all of the shelves full and reaching up to the ceiling, stacks of books still littered the floor, leaving only small pathways between the towering columns.

Careful not to knock any of the piles over, I made my way to the front desk knowing I would be unable to locate anything in the maze of volumes.

"Hello there," the clerk said in a very business-like manner, despite the curve of his lips, as I approached, "Can I help you with finding your school books?"

His eager smile made me slightly nervous, as it appeared that he knew something he shouldn't, but that was absurd; no one knew. How could anyone know? It had played out so perfectly, no one suspected a thing. Well, apparently one person had been clever enough to see the truth; otherwise there would have been no reason to be in Diagon Alley. I nodded quickly after seeing the clerk's eyebrow raise at my silence.

"Um, yes, I was looking for my seventh year school books." I finally answered him.

He shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk, suddenly very serious, "And which school are you attending?"

I hesitated, speaking quietly when the clerk looked up at me with a raised brow again, "Hogwarts."

I breathed a sigh of relief simply saying the name for the first time, which, needless to say, was rather odd. Why should I want to go to a new school, where I knew no one and had no idea what I was doing, when all my friends and everything I knew was at my old school; Beaux Batons.

"And what classes are you taking?" he asked, shifting through the papers once again.

I contemplated the reason behind the question before realizing that I needed books only for the classes I was taking and he wanted to know which books he had to look for, "Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Mythology and…" I paused, "Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He finally pulled out the paper with a look of triumph and then stared curiously across the desk at me. After carefully scrutinizing my face and posture he must have determined that I was serious. He nodded thoughtfully and disappeared into the thousands of books, knowing, somehow, exactly where he was going.

I remained behind the desk, feeling rather awkward standing there, and waited for him to return. When the man did return he was half-hidden by the stack of rather thick books he was carrying.

"Building muscles never hurt," He smiled, referring to why he was carrying and not charming the books, "too much." He finished with a chuckle as the books hit the desk with a thud when he dropped them there.

It was then that I realized that, although this man was willing to carry the heavy books, I was not. I needed a wand.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to hold these for me for a while. I have to pick something else up, it shouldn't take long."

He smiled cheerfully, "Sure, we do it all the time."

I left the shop in a hurry, thinking about the sudden change in the man's attitude. He had been so optimistic when he got my books, but before that... I came to the conclusion that he was the sort of man that thoroughly enjoyed books and was a job well done and was quite pleased to have helped me find the books so efficiently. Of course, that only made sense. A man who loved books would certainly work at a bookstore. I chuckled darkly to myself for my quick suspicions.

Stepping once again into the busy street, I wove my way towards Ollivander's, one of the most well known wand makers in the wizard world. From the outside the shop seemed to be abandoned, no lights were on inside and the windows were cracked and dirty. The name above the shop didn't gleam like the other signs, though I knew it had once shone with golden color like at all rest. Hesitantly, I entered the dark shop; the bell rang as the door creaked open. Almost instantly a man with wild gray hair was in front of the desk.

"You, you are Miss Chalice?" The man, obviously Mr. Ollivander, asked.

I had been dreading this part. Not only was I about to get a new wand, but my secret was revealed already. Instead of risking a trembling voice, I nodded.

"I thought I would never see you here." He grinned widely and his eyes sparkled, he suddenly looked very young. "I understand you've been using your grandmother's wand. Might I see it?"

I nodded dumbly, a little shocked that he hadn't ensued with a flood of questions, and pulled the wand out of my pocket and offered it to his extended hand. He examined it for a minute, seeming rather intrigued by the wand. It was quite a simple wand really; the wood was a dull brown, a normal color, it felt a bit short and a common core resided inside.

"Ten inch rosewood with a Unicorn hair core, I remember it well." He smiled kindly, "Try a spell with it."

I stared at the wand in his hand for a moment, "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes, quite sure."

I took the wand carefully and waved it delicately at the wall, hoping to straighten a crooked painted; instead it crashed to the floor in a heap of torn frame and canvas. I jumped at the destruction I had caused with the simple spell.

"Well, you definitely do need a new one," Mr. Ollivander laughed lightly, "I think you had a good length here, could be better, and a nice wood as well, you're core has simply changed."

"My core changed?" My expression must have matched the questioning tone in my voice, because I could have sworn he let out a chuckle when he looked at my face.

"Yes, it seems as though the unicorn hair is no longer suited to your…personality. Miss Chalice, do you mind telling me what you are doing here?"

"Getting a new wand?" I tried, though horribly, to convince him.

I had never been a good liar; my parents had been keen to keep me chivalrous with honesty and helpfulness. I wasn't doing too well at either of those anymore.

He raised an eyebrow knowingly, "You know what I mean."

I quickly blurted, "I didn't want to be taken away from home," my breath afterwards was quick and sharp.

"That's understandable," Mr. Ollivander said with a sympathetic smile.

His eyes wandered from my face around the store and over the countless books, containing what I assumed to be a wide assortment of wands, and back to me for a moment. He had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen in my life. I struggled to comprehend the vigor behind his eyes when I remembered his age and lonely occupation.

"Lets get started finding you a wand then, shall we? We will try the Rosewood wands first of course."

He left me, staring at the level his eyes had been before me, to search for what I assumed to be the first wand of many that I would try. I shook my head, attempting to rid my mind of the haunting image of the youthful eyes implanted in the wrinkles of Mr. Ollivander. He hurried back into the room with a long, thin black box and quickly uncovered the wand within to hand it to me.

"Ten inches again, a little shorter than I'd like for you might I add, with Hippogriff Talon. Well," He said when I hesitated to test it, "Try it."

I gave the wand the slightest of waves and still it went through the trouble of cracking the entire length of the wall to my right. Mr. Ollivander had most definitely not gotten it right the first time. He rushed off once again, into the back of the store, to find another wand and returned with an identical black box, which was home to a wand identical to the first. I got the impression that a lot of the wands I would be trying would look the same.

Mr. Ollivander didn't look happy with his choice, but told me the length and core anyway, "Eleven inch, much better, with Chimaera Scale."

I bit my lip as I gave the wand a brief flick; the destruction worsened. The front desk was flung against the front wall, all the windows were shattered and every painting hung even all the more crooked or had fallen off the wall altogether. Papers, which had been perched peacefuly on the desk, drifted slowly to the floor. The wand was exceptionally powerful, as I had thought it would be; Chimaeras were known for their brutality and power, thus inflicting those attributes upon the wands that were bound to their scales.

Mr. Ollivander scurried off without a word to me, returning shortly with yet another similar wand, "Eleven inches, I rather like this length for you, and Demiguise hair."

The damage wasn't as bad with a wave from the Demiguise hair wand, although there wasn't much left to wreck in the store. A simple chair broken into splinters seemed a relief, thought startling, after the massive injuries to other sections from the previous wand. I timidly set the wand on the only furniture that remained somewhat alive after the last wave, a deteriorating old table set against the wall.

"Have you ever heard the legend of the FiendFyre, Miss Chalice?" Mr. Ollivander asked distractedly as he haphazardly shoved wands off the shelf in his attempt to reach one at the back.

I shook my head, "I only know of the spell, I was never told there was a legend behind it."

"I suppose you wouldn't hear it in school, it isn't common knowledge." He pulled the black wand box off the shelf with a groan as he stretched to grasp it, "FiendFyre, as you very well know, is a spell that summons magical creatures made entirely of flames. Wizards and witches create spells, I'm sure you've learned that. This particular spell was the result of a rather wild adventure of young Matthew Riklar. While searching the great pyramids of Egypt, where he was studying the ancient magic protecting the monuments, he stumbled upon a secret room. Instinctively, he tried to gain entrance to the room, thinking of the treasures hidden within. When he opened the door it was not dark, the room was lit with flames, but it was not torches on the wall," Mr. Ollivander's eyes gleamed, "Demons of fire they were. Dogs with bright red eyes, black fangs and bodies covered with tongues of fire. Beneath the flames he could see the remains of their canine frames, charred fur and scorched bones. The creatures are among those classified, untruly, as the living-dead."

"Why are you telling me this, Mr. Ollivander?"

He opened the box he held tightly in his gnarled hands, "The young man escaped with the tooth of one of the creatures embedded in his leg and someone saw fit to see what kind of a wand such a thing would make," with a flourish he held the wand up to the dim light in the store and, because of the red of the rosewood and the nature of the core within, I glimpsed the appearance of flames in the coloring of the wand.

"The creatures were called Xikan," his voice still held the power of a story-teller's grasp on my mind and I shivered, entranced by the mysterious rhythm of his voice and the pattern of his words.

"Wow," I breathed at the end of the tale, "What a beautiful wand."

He handed me the wand, which still looked to be burning, with tender care and almost nervously asked me to try it. I guessed he was a bit concerned that it would be mine; after all, no one knew what it was capable of. With a gentle flick that clearly showed my fear of the disaster I assumed would ensue, I tested the wand. I shut my eyes tightly as I heard the scraping of wood, the cracking of glass and the enlargement of the fissure in the wall. So Mr. Ollivander had no reason for worry, I wouldn't be taking the wand home, or so I thought.

I opened my eyes with a sigh of relief that it was over until he found yet another wand for me to try, but I gasped when I realized that the entire shop had been repaired. Even more strange, was that it seemed to look even better. The floor was swept clean, all the furniture had returned to its proper place and state, all the windows had been wiped clear of grime, and the entire store had been dusted. Every broken window was replaced, and the dying light bulbs shone bright once again; it all looked brand new.

"Miss Chalice, you must promise me that you will tell me anything that you discover about this wand," Mr. Ollivander said seriously, "No one knows what it can do. Look at what it did to my shop with the smallest wave. I'm assuming you didn't mean to do all of this of course."

"No, I had no intention of cleaning it so thoroughly, only to fix what I had broken previously even a bit."

I was rather excited to have found a new wand even though it meant I no longer had need of my grandmother's. The new one was undoubtedly more rare, powerful and beautiful that her wand and I couldn't help but feel a little bit proud for having such a wand.

"I suggest you get used to your new wand once you get home, try a few simple spells with it. And be extremely cautious when casting spells on other people or even yourself." He warned.

"I will. Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," I dug deep in the pocket of my sweats once again, searching for my bag of galleons, "How much do I owe you?"

He appeared startled for a moment, "I assumed you were trading in your old wand for this one, unless you would like to keep that one as well?"

"No," I shook my head slowly, "that's fine."

I thanked Mr. Ollivander a few more times on my way out and he simply smiled and waved me off. When I glanced back I couldn't help but laugh as he scratched his head and grinned at the state of his shop. I couldn't understand why he hadn't taken the time to give it a good cleaning like I had done accidentally; it didn't take much when you had a wand.

Even though I had found a new wand that worked gloriously I decided to get the rest of my things before going back for my books and bat. There were still a few things left on my shopping list; school robes, as the ones from my old school didn't resemble the Hogwarts' ones at all; potions supplies for the more complex array of spells concocted by seventh years; a new pair of gardening gloves; and some polish for my broomstick which was losing its magnificent shine.

The potion supplies, gloves and polish were easy enough to purchase, only the robes would take longer so I let them be until I had all the other items on the list. Madam Malkin's was the best place to go for robes of any sort, so the line up for service was a bit long since only Madam Malkin herself took measurements and made the garments. It was a little over fifteen minutes, my feet were sore from shifting my weight and the shopping I had already done, before it was my turn.

Madam Malkin was a plump witch with curly brown hair pulled, for the most part, up into a bun. Small glasses hung on a gold chain around her neck, and I thought her eyes blue eyes might have stood out a bit more with the red-framed glasses sitting on her pointed nose. She didn't smile as I approached; she seemed to be in a hurry with no time to spare for chatting idly.

"Robes for school?" She guessed immediately.

"Yes, I'm going to Hogwarts this year," I was beginning to find speaking with others was coming easier, especially after talking with Mr. Ollivander.

It had been a long time since I'd had to keep up a real conversation with anyone other than my neighbor. He was my age and the only one who knew the whole truth behind my actions. There wasn't anyone in the world that I trusted more, and no one who knew me better. Without him, well I didn't like to think about what would have happened.

I was drawn out of my thoughts by Madam Malkin questioning me, seeming more than a bit annoyed, "How many would you like?"

"Oh," I started stupidly, "sorry, just two please."

I only had one year left, what reason did I have to get more than two? It wasn't worth the money, I could wash the robes easily enough and I wasn't a messy eater either. Madam Malkin conjured up the properly proportioned robes and gently pushed me in the direction of the cashier where I paid for the robes and hurried out of the crowded store.

Deposited once again on the busy street of Diagon Alley, I made my way, head up this time, towards the bookstore to pick up the books I had purchased. The clerk was sitting behind the deskand pretended to be looking over the documents on his desk when I walked in, catching him reading an adventure novel.

He looked up as if he hadn't noticed me until I stood before his desk, "Back for your books? I kept them right there."

He heaved them off the floor beside him, not bother to use magic and set them heavily down on the wooden desk, which I was afraid might collapse after the books were dropped carelessly onto its surface for the second time. I counted them just to make sure he hadn't somehow managed to lose one while I was gone; they were all there.

"Thank you," I said with what I hoped was a pleasant smile and waved my wand at the stack of books, "enjoy your book."

He grinned sheepishly at me as I waved before heading towards my last stop. The kind pet shop owner had my bat ready in a cage when I arrived and I took her, saying my thanks to the lady as I left.

Now all that was left was too floo home through one of the public fireplaces in Diagon Alley and wait. Only two days left until September first and the start of a new beginning.


End file.
